


The Petitioners Path

by Mythaled



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 06:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4817972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythaled/pseuds/Mythaled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dalish are looked down upon even in modern society. Cressida Lavellan wants to change that, however she can, even if it’s just getting people to support her petition for more Dalish scholarships.</p>
<p>Ever so slightly based on the AU prompt: 'I’m really passionate about this cause and I will give you this flier if I have to shove it down your throat'</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Petitioners Path

Dorian – 15:20

_ Would I be correct to guess you're not attending our little get together tonight? _

 

Cressida heaved a sigh as she checked the text message. She debated swiping the message away and ignoring it but she'd never hear the end of it if she ended up attending their soiree that night. Dorian never did take too well to being ignored. She chewed on her lower lip, fingers flying against the touchscreen.

 

Cressida – 15:23

_ Will be there ASAP.  _

_ Handing out a few more flyers and will be done. _

_ Can I still borrow your book on Necromancy? _

 

She lent herself against the tree that stood in the middle of the campus, flyers held between her thighs so the wind couldn't catch them. She jolted when her phone buzzed almost immediately, the notification popping up on her screen.

 

Dorian – 15:24

_ Of course. _

_ Should I encourage your little crusade? _

_ Justice for the Dalish and all that. _

 

Cressida scoffed, tucking her phone away into the back pocket of her jeans and moving off the side of the tree. She approached a group of Freshmen, young and starry eyed, they chattered intently barely friends but desperate to grasp onto someone new. They waved her away before she could open her mouth, each one making their polite excuses before they rolled their eyes and made their way giggling and muttering under their breath.  _ Was that really a Dalish? She had the tattoos and everything? I thought the knife ears stayed away from the cities now. _

 

_ Shems.  _ She huffed, watching as they bounded off. The humans were no help, they'd make enough excuses, ridiculous petty things that made her skin crawl from their ignorance. Or was it arrogance? She couldn't quite decide. 

 

Ten flyers left, the rest were likely thrown carelessly into one of the rubbish bins, she would attempt to fetch them but she needn't add fuel to the fire of insults that was already burning. Cressida slumped down on the bench, stuffing the remaining flyers into her bag.

 

“You seem distressed, lan'sila.” She glanced up, nodding her head to the man who had taken a seat next to her. She recognised him, if barely, he was a professor, teaching ancient Elven history. Cressida huffed slightly, blowing at a piece of hair that had fallen loose of her bun.

 

“University tends to do that to me.” He chuckled at that, it was an odd sort of laughter. She threw him a lopsided grin in return.

 

“You seem too old to be an undergraduate here, are you studying under Enchanter Vivienne by any chance?” He put his hands in his lap, his eyes following the vallaslin that traced her face. She turned her head away, waiting for a negative comment but he said nothing more.

 

“Yes, I'm on the final year of my doctorate.” The professor rested his chin on his hand, eye contact between them not remaining for more than a few seconds. 

 

“And how do you find her teaching?” Cressida raised an eyebrow, did he seriously want her to dish the dirt on her teacher? How would it benefit him? Would he report straight back to Vivienne without a second thought? There was nothing in his face that could reveal his true intentions, he seemed to wear a friendly smile.

 

“She's a very smart and experienced woman.” The professor nodded his head, asking her to finish what she was saying. Cressida sighed. “But what little she knows of Dalish magic she squanders on herself. I wish she knew more, just so she could teach me. I suppose that seems selfish.”

 

“To learn your own history is not selfish. If I may ask, what are you writing your thesis on?” He seemed genuinely interested, his body leaning against the carving of metal that rested in the arm of the bench. 

 

“The applications and benefits of modern Necromancy.” She cringed noticeably, she had been lectured enough times by Vivienne on the lack of reference material available. _Necromancy is a dying magic, my dear, most people prefer to turn their studies to subjects with more – ah - practical applications._

 

Even in Nevarra they were beginning to turn their backs on the dying art. 

 

“You appear to be a masochist then?” She huffed a laugh, fingers twining around the rope handle of her donation box. 

 

“You aren't the first to suggest that.” Cressida felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket She dug her hand into the back pocket of her jeans, unlocking the screen and bringing up the text.

 

Sera – 15:30

_ r u still bein elfy? _

 

Cressida clicked the button on the top of her phone, making the screen turn dim. She tucked her phone into bag, nestled between her many leaflets and notebooks.

 

“You seem to know a lot about magic but you teach Elvhen history.” He had looked away whilst she had checked her phone, she wondered if he had simply cared for her privacy or if he'd thought her rude for letting her phone interrupt their conversation.

 

“I am a mage, if that is what you're wondering.” He pulled a book from his satchel, she glanced a quick look at the front page. _The Shape of the Fade by Enchanter Ephineas Aserathan._ Cressida raised a brow, she had been required to study the Fade throughout her university career but she had never come across such a book. “Though, I prefer a theoretical approach to it, I studied both the fade and elvhen history. You might be surprised how keenly the two assist one another.” His fingers tapped against the front of his book.

 

“I had to study the fade whilst I was an undergrad, I've never seen any references to that book.” 

 

“Hardly surprising, it is an old book. You can borrow it, if you like. I have garnered enough knowledge from it for one lifetime.” He offered the leather bound book to her, she accepted it gracefully, tucking it into her bag.

 

“Thank you, I'll be sure to return it when I'm finished, ha'hren.” 

 

“Call me Solas, please. You are welcome in my lectures at any time, I have one on the magic in Arlathan next week if you are interested.” Her phone buzzed again, the dull vibrating sound being heard from the depths of her bag. “It appears your friends are trying to grab your attention, da'lan.” He nodded his head and rose up from the seat. Cressida smiled and waved her hand slightly before she delved back into her bag to grab her phone.

 

Dorian – 15:38

_ I thought you had a few flyers left _

_ If you're busy Cress, we'll be ridiculously disappointed but we'll understand. _

 

Cressida – 15:39

_ Nice guilt trip, very classy, Dorian. _

_ Got held up, will be ten mins.  _

_ Sorry. _

 

She glanced at one of the flyers poking out of the top of her bag. Hooking her bag over her shoulder she moved at a bit of a run, eyes focused on Solas' retreating back.

 

“Ha'hren – Ah, Solas!” She called to him and he turned, raising an eyebrow at her.

 

“I thought you had friends to attend to.” He took an authoritative pose, hands clasped behind his back as he looked down at her. He was only taller than her by a few inches but she felt the difference from his gaze.

 

“Uh, yes. I do, I was just wondering.” She moved her bag off her shoulder, hands fumbling in an attempt to keep the bag upright whilst she grabbed one of the flyers. “I'm petitioning for the school to accept more Dalish elves via scholarships. It's hard for us to find a place in city universities and I'm hosting a talk in a week or so to drum up support before I can approach the University board.” He raised an eyebrow at her, taking the flyer from her hand as she slipped her bag back onto her shoulder.

 

“ _More Scholarships for the Dalish._ A snappier title may help catch attention.” He was jesting, though her cheeks flooded with colour anyway.

 

“Yes, well, I'm not a creative writer. I don't have time to write flowery prose on a leaflet about prejudice against my people.” She watched him as his eyes scanned down the flyer, fingers scratching at the curve of his jaw. 

 

“How can I help you with this?” 

 

“Oh, yes. Well, you teach classes on Elven history, if any students would be willing to attend the talk it would be yours. I was hoping you could mention it, if not you could just leave the flyers somewhere they could grab them.” Cressida tucked a lose strand of her hair behind her ear, her hand trailing down to scratch the back of her neck. He considered her for a second, flipping the flyer over to read the type on the back.

 

“How many of these do you have?” He questioned, glancing from the flyer to her face and then down to her bag where he saw the rest poking out the top.

 

“About ten, I think. On my person at least, there's probably about forty in the bins on campus.” She huffed, rolling her eyes, arms crossing in front of her. 

 

“Give me what you have left and I will leave them on my desk, I will make a quick mention of it before my class but I cannot promise you that any of my students will attend.” Solas held his hand out and she fumbled once more, collecting all her spare leaflets up and placing them against his open palm. 

 

“Thank you again, I'll return the book when I'm finished.” She smiled at him, nodding her head as a brief farewell before she turned to the high street.

 

Cressida – 15:45

_ Sorry again, meet you at coffee shop. _

_ Good news though, may have support for petition. _

_ TTYL x _

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry that I decided to write this.
> 
> Text message layout completely inspired by aicosu's fic Message Sent (please do yourselves a favor and read it).
> 
> lan'sila - student  
> da'lan - f. child/young one  
> ha'hren - elder, teacher


End file.
